Friday 7 October 2005 03.37 EDT
First published on Friday 7 October 2005 03.37 EDT

She's the star of a television talent show, but Li Yuchun is not an outstanding singer or dancer. Nor is the 21-year-old considered particularly pretty. She dresses like a tomboy and, last but not least, the title of the show, sponsored by a dairy company, is The Mongolian Cow Sour Yogurt Supergirl Concert.

Here's how many tuned in: 400 million - more than the population of western Europe - making it the largest television audience in Chinese history and inevitably the largest domestic TV audience in the world.

China's young women are in the midst of a "Supergirl rebellion", in which traits such as assertiveness, confidence and creative eccentricity have made a thrilling triumph over the old, introverted ideal of pretty-girl Chinese pop. The climax to this has been a Pop Idol-style singing competition which anyone could enter and whose outcome, unlike most Chinese TV, was not scripted - fans voted for the winner.

The Supergirl phenomenon slowly took hold, and since winning the national competition five weeks ago, the self-described tomboy has become arguably the most famous woman in China. Shanghai's ornate malls are well stocked with Li Yuchun mugs, T-shirts and keyrings. Her face is plastered across the city, and the 39,000 tickets for last night's concert - the first in a national tour sponsored by the Better Posture Equipment Company - sold out faster than any event in the history of Shanghai's largest stadium.

So what are Li Yuchun's talents? She is outgoing, boyish, confident. She is neither submissive nor quiet. It is precisely her proud and unpolished imperfection that has charmed her fans.

Last night the stadium was heavy with angst and the smell of chewing gum. On every flushed face, a cascade of expressions could erupt instantly into an outpouring of tears. When Li Yuchun took the stage, wearing a white suit, a Beatlemania-style frenzy of noise took over.

"She's so unusual!" said Yu Qinglan, eight, from within a rhythmic sea of giddy, shaking glowsticks.

Li Yuchun wears no makeup and sports spiky, wiry hair. She sings aggressively: loud songs and songs written for men. "It's contrary to orthodox singing and traditional aesthetics," said Cai Lin, associate professor of sociology and gender studies at Tongji University, explaining how a tomboy became one of China's most important social figures overnight. "The most popular girls these days are not tender or ladylike. As the society opens up, women can be brave, more independent and outgoing like boys."

Rebellious

"Women are very explosive today," said Chen Shangjun, professor of humanities and literature at Fudan University. "People have abandoned the traditional beauty figure, and the positioning of female characters - extroverted, non-tender and outgoing women - is new for mainland China and different from the state-run beauty contests."

Not all the Chinese authorities have been easily seduced by Li Yuchun and the rebellion against femininity. "It's vulgar and manipulative," said one statement put out by China's government broadcaster.

But it is not the social power of an unconventional tomboy, nor her challenge to China's gender orthodoxies, that have some in China in a frenzy. It is that she was popularly elected in a process that attracted the masses and made them feel included. Viewers could vote up to 15 times by text message. Millions did, and in the show's final weeks, fans hit the streets to lobby for their favourite.

While the method was commercial, it was none the less mass selection, and it is difficult to avoid noticing that Li Yuchun is the most popularly elected person in modern China - more people having shown their individual support for her than for President Hu Jintao.

"There is an undeniable democratic ideology behind it," said Prof Chen, "but it's different because politicians have many requirements to be politicians; these women have none."

Prof Chen argues that the unparalleled response to Supergirl is more about access to success among the largest population on Earth than it is about any form of individual or democratic empowerment: "In every sphere of Chinese life - social, economic and academic - it's simply too difficult for young people to beat everyone and win. There are so many restrictions and you have to be perfect and extremely lucky to attract any attention at all."

But with Supergirl, "anybody, really anybody wanting to show off could take part. This is very unique in China."

Dr Cai added that the perception of opportunity, realistic or not, could empower young Chinese women to feel they could be unique, creative and celebrated. "Supergirl provides an opportunity for ordinary young women to have extraordinary dreams," she argued.

"If everyone begins to feel that they too can be on stage and show off whatever they like then this is a development in our culture from social bondage to democracy."

Voting

Some disagree, arguing the phenomenon seduces young women more through unpredictable, spontaneous entertainment than through fantasies of personal celebrity.

"It's not pre-packaged," said Prof Chen, pointing out that you can perfectly predict what will happen on 99% of China's tightly controlled television programmes. "Anything could happen and the unpredictability of the show attracted people - there are no controls, it wasn't scripted and the masses participated, so it couldn't be manipulated."

But allegations of extensive voter fraud by various elements of the Supergirl fan-base are ubiquitous.

"There were all sorts of problems," said one fan. "You could vote 15 times, then switch phones, and it wasn't even called a vote," she said.

It's true. Technically the masses were allowed to send "messages of support". The term "vote" was deemed too provocative by Supergirl's creators. The Chinese authorities do not appear to be threatened. A wry statement in the government-run China Daily read: "How come an imitation of a democratic system ends up selecting the singer who has the least ability to carry a tune?"

Her fans do not mind at all. As the massive structure empties out, thousands of young women walk away as if in a dream, clutching their posters, face cards and mugs with Li Yuchun - boyish, forthright, smirking - on each one.

3,000 channels to choose from

· China's first broadcaster, CCTV, started in 1958. Originally called Beijing Television, it was subject to stringent state control.

· As China's economy has boomed access to luxury goods has become easier. An explosion in TV output in the last decade means there are now 3,000 different stations beaming across the country's airwaves.

· Most of China's 361m households have at least one television set with 40m new TVs being sold every year.

· Chinese in rural areas have an appetite for television that is just as insatiable as their urban cousins. Across China, most households now receive broadcasts from at least 35 TV stations.

· There are at least 30 foreign broadcasters that hold licences to operate in China, but they do so under extensive censorship laws.

· The Walt Disney company has tapped into the huge Chinese domestic market and was recently granted rights to screen the successful American series Lost and Desperate Housewives.

· Chinese programmers have not been shy about remaking hit foreign programmes for the local market. A version of Donald Trump's Apprentice series is in the pipeline, but with a distinctly Chinese spin, particularly the title, Wise Man Takes All.

· It is increasingly a youth market, with about 20 million young people entering adolescence each year. About 200 million Chinese are between 15 and 24 years old.